It s not me, Honey, its my cologne!

I once met an olfactory savant (a.k.a. a man with a mutant sense of smell) who reminded me of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, the protagonist in Patrick Suskind’s book Perfume: The Story of a Murderer.

The fictional Jean-Baptiste is a perfumer with an acute sense of smell who realizes that he has no smell of his own. He is so singularly obsessed with procuring the “perfect scent” that it eventually leads to murder, cannibalism and a massive orgy (Tomorrow’s headline: “DOMs storm bookstores demanding copies of Perfume!”; The day after tomorrow’s headline: “DOMs demand refund for their purchase of Perfume: ‘There are no pictures!’ they cry.”)

Contrary to Jean-Baptiste, the savant related to me that all of us possess a distinct scent. I found this factoid quite intriguing. Although many a times I have raised my armpit to my nose, I still cannot get a sense of my own smell. Thus, I offered to the savant a publicly acceptable body part of mine for him to sniff for scientific purposes.

He closed his eyes, took in a whiff, and declared, “You smell like sweetly burnt rubber and milk.”

Ho-kay… I admit that my personal scent doesn’t sound terribly attractive. But neither does my scent necessarily lead to murder, cannibalism and a massive orgy (much to the relief of the CBCP).

But, despite the fact that I am a struggling humor writer with thinning hair, high LDL cholesterol levels and a yaya at age 33, it must have triggered something primal in my then-girlfriend/now-wife so much so that she was willing to share genetic material with me. Apparently, there are specific scents — human, inhuman or otherwise — that can cause women to lose their sanity for an indeterminate period of time and render you terribly attractive to them, in spite of yourself. If a woman is able to associate a man’s fragrance with a past experience of hers that was memorable, pleasurable and did not require legal action, it creates a certain “spark” in the woman. And I’m not referring to spontaneous combustion. 

Garage, Skai and Tar: These scents may evoke memories of places you loved as a child

According to Indiana University psychology professor James Craig, “It is pretty clear that much of peoples’ responses to perfume and other smells is learned.” Smell is a very potent memory trigger, and past associations with certain colognes often dictate how a woman will respond to a given scent. For example, if you are in a bar and a woman suddenly knees you in the groin, grinds the spike of her heel into your manhood, and calls you a “lousy cheating bastard!” then you are probably triggering not-too-pleasant memories.

However, if you are in a bar and a softdrink-shaped beauty sporting twin satellites pounces all over you, shreds your clothes with her teeth, and plants kisses all over your well-groomed chest hair, then you know that your fragrance will probably help you fulfill a biological imperative that night. Maybe fulfill it even two times. 

And to help you fulfill your biological imperatives, there are the good folks of Comme Des Garcons (CDG) fragrances.

The folks at CDG understand that fragrances can just be just like high school: The affection of the head cheerleader is not “sparked” by the clean-cut nerdy honor student who is a consistent exemplary deportment awardee, but rather the siga (toughie) muscle-bound jock who repeated school first year three times (Sigh, such is life…). Regarded as the “anti-thesis” to the usual fragrances available on the market, CDG fragrances pay homage to the lifestyle of the fearless rebels and non-conformists.

And for the No Girlfriend Since Birth (NGSB) reading this column, if you are willing to do a lot of background research (a.k.a. stalking) on your victim, este, prospect, you might just find the right CDG anti-scent to “spark” her interest (and hope that she does not spontaneously combust).

Just take a whiff of the anti-scents that CDG has got brewing:

PLAYING WITH MY TOOLS. If you know that your prospect used to fiddle around a lot in her dad’s garage when she was a little girl, then you should douse yourself in Garage. The Garage scent — made up of laurel aldehyde, vetiver Acetate and Chinese Cedarwood, plastic floral notes, leather notes and traces of kerosene (yes, kerosene) — is meant to evoke images of grease, oil and rubber. Now you might think “How can I be attractive if I smell like a car engine?” Well, Garage’s evocative fragrance has the ability to stir up memories of places she may have loved as a child. Like playing with her dad’s toolbox or curling up in an old leather recliner while her dad worked on their car. Garage is all the good things about childhood and all the comfort scents you rarely indulge in as an adult. And in the event that she doesn’t fall for your fragrance, you can always use Garage to fuel your car.

BREAKING A RECORD. If your prospect spent quality time as a child with her dad listening to his vintage vinyl record collection, then you should dab on a little Skai. Skai’s scent — made up of methyl grapefruit, cardamon, sandalwood, labdanum, white leather, ozone and coal tar — is for every PVC-loving fetishist and vinyl record lover (and I know that many NGSBs are fetishists). The ozone and grapefruit give the leather/vinyl fragrance a fresh gin-and-tonic crispness at first, while sandalwood brings familiar warmth. A spritz of this fragrance straddles the line between kinky and comfortable, between shiny faux and genuine, between sexual and obscene. Just try not to get arrested for public indecency after spraying on Skai.

RACING TO THE FINISH. If your prospect grew up with a dad who brought her along to watch the Saturday drag races along the side streets of EDSA, then spray on some Tar. Tar’s volatile scent — which include bergamot, earth notes, opoponax, styrax, town gas, vapors of bitumen, grilled cigarettes (grilled cigarettes!?) and pyrogenic notes — reminds you of a speedway on a scorching afternoon or hot asphalt on a street filled with car exhaust. Not for the faint of heart, Tar’s fragrance is for those who want to “spark” the attention of a city girl who is in love with the smell of a crowded, polluted city. Just do not approach the girl while wearing Tar if she has a lit match.

(Plus Tar is the perfect excuse for husbands who come home early in the morning to a furious wife.

Wife: “Why do you smell like you’ve been to a girlie bar!?”

Husband: “It’s not me, pangga. It’s my cologne.”)

MIGHTY MEATY. If your prospect enjoyed grocery shopping with her dad, then bombard yourself with some Guerilla 1. Guerilla 1’s fragrance was inspired by, of all places, a butcher shop. In the words of perfumer Marie-Aude Couture, “If you think of a butcher’s shop, you think of meat, blood and then the very clean, bleached aprons... It’s carnivorous, but we have added the Indonesian flower champaca, it’s sensual, and then orange, so it’s fruity, with jasmine and gardenia too.”

Um, I would think that the words “meat,” “blood” and “sensual” shouldn’t appear in the same sentence unless it was for a write-up of a psychiatric evaluation. It doesn’t sound pretty at all, but then again pretty (and other aesthetically-pleasing adjectives) is not what the CDG brand is all about. 

You can even test the potency of this fragrance by approaching that softdrink-shaped beauty sporting twin satellites in the bar by blurting out the line: “Hey, do I smell like meat to you?”

If she doesn’t knee you in the groin after those words escape your lips, then you know that Guerilla 1 tactic was executed to perfection.

WORKING IN THE WILD. If your prospect grew up with a workaholic dad who took him with her to work on the weekends, then Odeur 71 is the ultimate anti-perfume for you. Odeur 71 mixes the essence of trees such as the willow, birch and elm trees as well as natural ingredients like lettuce juice and white pepper along with fragrances inspired by (brace yourselves) office items like dust on a hot light bulb, a warm photocopier toner, a toaster and fresh pencil shavings. According to CDG, this scent structure has resulted in a weird but truly fantastic fragrance concoction. But hey, if it gets the (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) job done, then I’m sure the NGSB doesn’t mind smelling like an overused photocopying machine.

So for those NGSBs who want to smell like a car engine or a vinyl record or an asphalt road or a butcher shop or like a photocopying machine for the girl of their hallucinations, este, dreams, head on over to the Fragrance Bar at Adora and get horizontal with the CDG bottles (um, because CDG’s unique packaging has the bottles lie horizontally).

In the meantime, I am anxiously waiting to meet with CDG executives to develop their new sweetly-burnt rubber and milk fragrance.

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Comme Des Garcons scents are available at Adora in Greenbelt 5, Ayala Center, Makati.